Flight of the Last Drake Rider
by VanG Ziggy ZA
Summary: FF2 The story of FF2 from Gareth's point of view.


THE FLIGHT OF THE LAST DRAKE RIDER

By

Vanguard Ziggy

Author's notes; Okay, this is my first attempt to write a Final Fantasy 2 story. The main character of this story is Gareth, who was the last remaining Drake rider. I hope that you enjoy this as much as I will enjoy writing it.

Gareth Windrider quickly polished his armor and looked out of his window. It was the seventeenth of August, his twenty-fourth birthday. A cool late summer breeze blew into his room, the third tower to the left in Deist Castle. He smiled and inhaled slowly, letting the warm sun stroke against his dark, midnight black hair.

His face was oval, and bronzed, with a single scar around his left eye, which he received in received in a rebellion near Kas'ion five years earlier. He had been partnered with Wilhelm Van Dyke that day, and had seen his mentor and partner die. After that day, he'd been promoted from sergeant to captain in a heart beat, and was awarded the highest honors of his military group. Still the events of that day had taken his innocence from him.

Gareth was just about to leave his room when one of his younger cadets nearly bumped into him, his eyes wide with disbelief and shock. Gareth cackled and rose to his feet, helping the teenager to his. The boy was so excitable, he everyone nicknamed him Jitters.

"And what can I do for you, Private Silver?" he asked with a wide smile. It was soon replaced with look of confusion as the private handed over a piece of paper.

"General Tzsi wants to talk to you, sir," the boy said. "Something about an emergency meeting of the riders."

Gareth frowned and folded his arms after reading the papers. It had said that an outpost near Deist had been attacked, and that twenty nine riders had already fallen. That even one rider had fallen was surprising. They were the best of the best, there was no military organization better trained then them. Gareth sighed and nodded.

As they walked to the center room, Gareth looked down at the boy and grinned, he was so much like Gareth was at that age. The captain put a hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezed. "So, not long now until you have your own drake, huh? Are you excited?"

"Commodore Heist says that I'm at least two more years before I can have my own drake," the boy said, his expression melting into shock.

Garth chuckled and shook his head. "Commodore Heist is a bag of wind, and a bloated one at that." He looked at the boy's horrid glare, as if he expected a bolt of lightning to strike his captain dead for saying such a thing, and then blinked. This made Garth howl with laughter all the more.

Before another word could be spoken, they were at the center room, and Gareth pushed open the large red doors. The center was light by a thousand candles, with different sized windows gracing the gray walls to allow certain drakes to poke their heads through. Way in the back sat the young General Tzsi, the head of the Drake Riders, and leader of Deist Castle.

The general was six feet tall, in his early thirties, with short black hair, which was braided. His skin was golden brown, and his eyes were deep, dark brown. His armor was golden in color, and a few sapphires glittering around his chest plates. Behind him was Azrael, his massive golden wind drake, who was sticking his massive head through the largest of the windows. He looked up at his last captain to enter and smiled as Gareth sat down.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your day off, Gareth, but something has come up, that the riders need to focus on."

"The attack on our properties," the captain said. The general nodded. "But who could have attacked us?"

The general frowned, raising a single eyebrow. Now his group knew something was wrong, the general didn't frown at all. "Paramecia," he said in a single word, as if it was a curse.

The captains frowned and looked at one another, "I'm sorry general, who did you say attacked us?" one of them asked.

"The Migte monarchy," General Tzsi sighed. "King Caprin died last week, and his son, Prince Paramecia has taken over the government. He's even renamed it in his own name." Behind him he could hear Azrael growl and shake his scaled head in disgust. "He's also declared himself emperor of it."

Gareth frowned and narrowed his eyes. He _knew_ who Paramecia was. He had met the spoiled nineteen year old once. A brat who had been doted over by his father ever since his mother and two siblings had passed away, King Caprin had given his son whatever he wanted, with no exception. It looked like that had turned out to be a mistake.

"I have reports here; that his forces are already attacking Bafsk, and that his attentions may turn to Fynn. In order to prevent this, we've been asked by King Charles of Fynn to head off an invasion force, near Salamand."

One of the captains groaned and pounded a fist on the table, "Why do we even need to go to Salamand, I say we attack this Paramecia in unison at once. They can't possibly stop our entire force."

"Because, Captain Biggs, that would leave Deist unprotected, and because we need riders to run the empire from our own lands, as well as help an ally," the general roared.

"And let's not forget," Commodore Heist snapped, heaving his bloated form to fit comfortably in his chair, "we've lost almost thirty riders already. There aren't that many of us to begin with."

"This is ridiculous," another captain snapped, "what could kill a drake, let alone a drake rider?"

"Neither riders, nor their drakes are immortal, Captain Wedge," the general snarled. "It would take a lot to kill one of us, but we can be killed, and something that could kill twenty some of us, is a very serious issue."

Captain Sara Heartily frowned and stroked her chin, her blazon red hair glowing in the candlelight. "You said that a group of this new empire is heading toward Salamand, correct?"

"That's correct, possibly heading for Fynn Castle," the general said with another frown.

"What if they're not seeking a northern attack on the castle?" she asked, staring into his eyes. "What if they could be heading for the waterfalls near the city?"

"Semitt Falls?" Commodore Dany Tzsi asked. Besides Sara Heartily, Dany Tzsi was the only other high ranking female officer of the riders, and the wife of General Tzsi. She had a thin, slender face, and soft kind eyes, long flowing brown hair, and a very series attitude. "But why would they want that?"

"The caves inside the falls," Gareth answer quickly. "The Mithril inside of them, I think Captain Heartily has a point."

"This is nonsense," Commodore Heist snarled. "Those mines are worthless, milked dry years ago by the dwarves who are dead and buried there. If we're smart, we'll order all riders outside our borders to return to the castle, and then negotiate with this empire."

"What?" General Tzsi glared at his commodore and tried to read what he was thinking. The blob of a man returned his glare.

"Why should we defend people who aren't even one of us?" the heavy set officer asked.

"Because it's our job to do so," Commodore Tzsi snapped back at him, her eyes glaring angrily.

"We just can't ignore the pleas of the helpless because a few of our numbers have died," another captain agreed.

"This is stupid, it's suicide to branch out in so many directions at once," Heist screamed, pounding his bloated fist on the table. The sound rattled around the hall, and caused a few drakes to poke their heads in to see what was going on.

"We are _not_, going to negotiate with terrorists, Commodore Heist," General Tzsi snapped. "And while I agree we can't be stretched beyond our limits, we should at least do what we can for those who need our help." He rose to his feet and narrowed his eyes. "And you will not raise your voice to my wife again," he shouted.

"You act like you've been raised by chocobos, you young fool," the Commodore snarled. A collective gasp echoed through the hall. "I say we need new leadership, I call for a vote of no confidence in General Tzsi." A larger gasp was heard, followed by stiff hisses from the angry drakes that continued to watch the situation.

"You damn bastard," Commodore Tzsi howled, shooting to her feet. Her drake Golden Heart pushed her yellow head through her window and blinked at her partner, her emerald eyes shining in the lights.

"Anyone who thinks this fool is leading us to our deaths, rise up and have your voices heard." Commodore Heist smirked for a moment as one by one the captains and commodore's rose. It quickly died when he realized that their limit was only going to be thirteen, while the one hundred others sat firmly in their chairs.

General Tzsi stood and walked toward the rebellious commodore. They faced each other, and then the general pulled his sword from his seethe and placed the tip of his blade on the bloated man's throat. "You, and you're little group are hereby expelled from Deist Castle, and the Drake Riders." He quickly cut the Dragoon Pendant from the Commodore's neck and then repeated it with each rebellious officer. Interesting enough, the thirteen that had rebelled all had seen their drake partner die in either combat or some other tragedy. "Leave now."

Commodore Heist shifted from one foot to another, his eyes darting around the room at an ocean of bitter eyes. "Fools," he hissed. "You've doomed yourself to extinction." He and his minions turned, and left the hall.

Gareth and his drake soared through the light blue sky, behind him twenty others were racing toward Salamand. It was almost a week since Heist had tried to pull his insurrection, and only now did General Tzsi order the defense of the snowbound village. Below them he could see an armada of purple and green clad soldiers blocking the village with boulders and logs. Gareth took his binoculars off and glared downwards. He soon spied the imperial symbol and placed them back in his pack.

With a wave of his sword, he ordered his unit to attack, and the flying dragons roared in bloodlust. Like meteors they descended, fire and ice scorching and freezing the Imperial troops, who had been taken completely off guard. Wave of sword, axe, and claw grounded the aggressors into the snow. Many of them rushed for the safety of the fields below the snowy mountains, many of them tried to fight back.

Gareth leapt from Wafiyy's back and leapt to the ground, sword in hand. With a thrust and a left slash, he brought one of the soldiers down, and went on to another slicing his arm clean off his body. Many of his fellow riders had dismounted, attacking in a similar way. Swords and axes swung, shields rose high, spells were cast, flames, lightning, ice swarming the battlefield. Rider and drake surrounded his or her opponent and danced as one, fought as one, as their minds linked.

But something seemed wrong. Even as they fell, the imperial soldiers who hadn't been beheaded, or lost important limbs rose to their feet to continue the battle. Some of his comrades, believing they were fighting ghouls tossed healing items and magic at their foes, only to be disappointed by the enemies' stronger laughter as the tactic healed them. Worse, those imperial soldiers who had retreated were returning to the battle. It didn't help when the villagers tried to heal the riders with potions and white magic. More and more imperial soldiers rushed the battlefield, as the riders' ground began to shrink.

"To the air," Gareth roared. The survivors mounted their drakes and rose into the sky, hoping an aerial attack would be a smarter strategy. And for a while it did work. Half of the imperial forces were cut down. Still those not mortally wounded rose to fight. Some even had strange machines that fired small metallic pebbles into the riders' drakes, beyond their scales. Before Gareth knew it, ten percent of his force had fallen.

The drake rider sighed, and called for a retreat. "If you can, offer any towns people aide in escape," he called. Very few people agreed to leave Salamand, but there were a few. They flew of to Deist Castle, and hopefully a new strategy.

Instead, he met with General Tzsi three weeks later, privately. The general had seemed to age overnight, and was obviously very tired. The empire had pushed further into Deist's borders, and more riders and drakes had been killed.

"Salamand, Bafsk, they've both fallen," the general said sadly. "And the empire is right now attacking Fynn. I don't know if that government can last, but I pray to God it can."

"Sir, if I may, what was that weapon that the empire used against us at Salamand? Those sticks with the miniature missiles."

"From what I know, they're called guns. Not everyone in the empire uses them, which is a good thing for us. If the empire used such a thing on a wide scale front, the war would end pretty quickly." He groaned and sat in his large leather chair.

"Sir, should I organize a small group to aide Fynn?" Gareth moved from foot to foot, and licked his lips.

"I wish I could say yes, but after Salamand, and an attempt to liberate Bafsk, we've had too many defeats." General Tzsi shook his head and rose. "No, we've been fighting a war as if it were taking place four hundred years ago. But worlds change, people change, and so must tactics." He looked up at his captain and smiled. "Time is not on our side, captain. Our spies have found out that the empire is building some type of airship, with larger guns, at Bafsk. We could attack, as I said before, we tried in an attempt to liberate it. We can't let that ship be finished, it would easily crush what force we have left. We need a weapon that could help in this new war."

"You have a weapon in mind," Gareth said, it wasn't a question.

His general smiled and nodded. "It's in the continent of Mysidia."

"You can't mean the Ultima spell, sir. That's just a legend," Gareth snapped.

"From what we know; yes. But we can't take a chance, not what that weapon so close to completion." He put a hand on Gareth's shoulder and sighed. "And we can't send even a small force to find it. And of all of my captains I trust you the most."

"But shouldn't I stay here then?" Gareth felt a little betrayed.

"I trust you won't be long, and there are a few more that have most of my trust." His general blinked and groaned as they stood together. "Please Gareth, we need that spell. If it exists, we need it, desperately."

Gareth sighed and nodded. "I'll go."

In order not to gain imperial attention, he left Wafiyy at the castle. He'd fallen for a pretty purple dragon anyway. Gareth didn't believe in breaking up true dragon love, they said it was the purest of all.

He rented a boat from a merchant in Paloom and set sail for Mysidia. For one full week it had been a calm ocean, and the cool air felt good against his skin, true not like it had when riding Wafiyy, but still it was nice. He had plenty of food, and most of the water beasts that had been terrifying other ships had seemed to leave him alone for the most part. There were a few scrapes, but Gareth was skilled with the sword, and knew lightning spells.

The rider was laying on the deck of his ship, yawning as the morning sun began to beat down on him. He rose to his feet and spied the small island with

the tower ahead of him. He smiled, and reached the wheel of the ship, when a whirlpool whipped the waters around the ship. Gareth frowned and tried to pull the boat from the whirlpool's grip, and then realized, all too late, that it was not a whirlpool, but some kind of monster. Before he could do anything he lost his footing, and slipped into the ocean, straight into its mouth.

He had no idea how long he had been in the thing. Gareth tried once to get out, but had a tough battle with a large worm. Instead of giving up his life, Gareth had retreated. His mind was always on Wafiyy, on his general and his castle, and his friends. Had the empire smashed the world? What had the general and his friends thought about him not returning? Despair slowly began to sink into his body.

The only thing that made him feel good was that this Leviathan had swallowed Commodore Heist and his little gang. Day after day, Gareth tracked down the rebels, and killed each one, after learning that they had betrayed the order, and handed over a deadly poison that could kill a drake. He cut the head off of Heist in the last day and threw it into the acid, watching it dissolve slowly in the green mist.

Day in and day out he avoided the monsters, pulled out half eaten fish for his food, and began to build a shelter from the boards of his ship. Then one day, a violet haired woman and two men walked up to his hut. Gareth frowned, and stared at the strangers.

"You alive or just illusions?" he asked weakly.

"We're alive," the thinner man said. "My name is Firion." He had white hair that was neck length. Over his head he had a gypsy type bandana and carried a large red sword. He motioned over to his friends, "This is Maria and my friend

Gus."

Maria was the violet haired girl, who was just as sweet as the general's wife, and just as tough. Gus was a bulky muscular man, who seemed to be very slow. They informed him that they had been after the Ultima spell. The empire was running all over the world, though these three had freed Salamand and Bafsk, and destroyed the imperial airship, though not before it destroyed certain cities and towns.

Gareth licked his lips and folded his arms. "I know a way out of here, if you could use my help." The group agreed readily, and the four of them defeated the massive worm quickly. Later they found a mystic that three others seemed to know called Mindu. With his help, they opened the barrier to the Ultima spell, but even the powers of the sorcerer were no match for the ancient magical door. While it opened, it took his life force. The turbine wearing, white clothed magician lay on the floor, surrounded by the others.

They arrived in Fynn and Gareth greeted Queen Hilda, the young daughter of King Charles' daughter, and his heir to the throne. There, but there was no time to celebrate. The emperor had left his castle, and taken home in a massive, destructive tornado. To reach it, and stop the emperor once and for all, they needed something to reach the top of it. An airship couldn't do the trick, but a drake might.

So the small group arrived at Cid's house in Poft, only to find him lying on his bed dying, injured during the attack by the tornado. He looked up at them, the weak old fool, and smiled. "No money this time lads. Take the ship, she's yours. Just promise me you'll take care of it." He blinked and died in the mist of his friends. They took the ship, and landed near Deist Castle an hour later.

Or what was left of it. Most of the castle was in ruins, and judging from the water, Gareth could tell that it had been poisoned. A heavy sigh burned deep in his lungs. He had heard by the rebels that they had given the emperor a poison to kill the drakes, but he didn't really want to believe that the snot would actually use it.

As they walked through the castle, escorted by the son of one of Gareth's best friends, they came to the boy's mother, who looked sadly on the last of the drake riders. When he had asked what had happened, she informed him sadly that as soon as the waters were poisoned, the empire attacked. General Tzsi, his wife, and others had fought bravely, but were no match for the imperial forces, as the acidy venom ran through both theirs and their drakes' veins. The general was the last to fall, cradling his sick and dying wife in his arms. All the while, he never lost faith in Gareth. While had gained the animosity of others, the general had never believed Gareth would betray them. Wafiyy had died trying to defend his honor when another drake accused him of treason.

There was only one drake remaining. The female drake that had caught Wafiyy's eyes before Gareth had left. She lay dying, and with the aide of a dragoon pendant they found out that the two had the last remaining egg. Taking it to the springs, where the eggs were hatched, and packed their things to leave.

"I promise to come back," Gareth told the young woman. He smiled and patted the boy's head. "To both of you."

It hadn't been hard to enter the tornado once they had the newly hatched drake, who Gareth named Ben Wafiyy, the son of Wafiyy. He even looked and fought like his father. His emotions were very much like his father, and yet he seemed to have a sense of humor. Gareth decided that he got _that_ from his mother.

Emperor Paramecia looked up at the heroes and blinked, "Who are you?" he wheezed. His hair was light blue, as were his eyes. He looked like a young boy, who had just gotten the snot beat out of him, by all of his school yard victims.

Somehow the heroes had managed to get through his imperial guards, the monsters he had summoned, and his royal guard he ordered to protect him. Paramecia was tough himself, but the Ultima spell proved to be the turning point that they needed. Firion was the one to learn it, and had taken it up to the seventh power before they fought his royal pain in the ass.

The emperor groaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he collapsed to the ground. Maria walked over him and put two fingers over his throat for a moment. Then just as gracefully slid the lids of his eyes closed. It was over. The war had ended.

The next night a grand party in the halls of Fynn was held. Laughter filled the air and the aroma of cooked ham, roasted turkey, potatoes, pies, throat burning ale, and other foods surrounded everyone. Paramecia had surrendered just two hours ago, and most of its forces that had taken over the remaining towns were beginning to pull out.

Gareth sat down, after dancing for the umpteenth time with the pirate queen Leila. She had been part of the group right before the Leviathan had swallowed them, and had been separated since then. Somehow she had managed not to be eaten, and taken the role of advisor once she arrived at Queen Hilda's court. She told Gareth how sad she was about Deist, and promised to get the queen to agree in helping to rebuild the castle and the country.

She was cute, but Gareth never forgot his promise to the young mother back in the castle. He intended to celebrate with his friends, and then take Ben Wafiyy back to the castle alone, to recreate his home the next morning.

His plans were broken as a wounded Fynn soldier crawled into the throne room. He looked up as the queen rushed to his aide and frowned with intense sadness. "We've been betrayed," he rasped. Blood oozed from his sides, soaking his cloth and steal armor. "The black knight has declared himself emperor, and is preparing his forces for a second war." The lights in the room began to thin; a bright blue aura surrounded the queen. He could hear her tell him to save his strength, but it seemed as though she were talking in a tunnel, her voice strained and echoing around him. Then with a metallic squeal and a static sound all around his ears, darkness overtook his eyes.

Queen Hilda turned to her fiancée and sighed. "It can't start all over again."

Prince Gordon frowned and shook his head. Like Leila, Gareth, Mindu, and a few others who had died in the war against the empire, he had fought besides Firion, Maria, and Gus. "It won't, I promise you." He had already lost numerous friends, and his older brother Scott, in the first war. He would be damned if another war would begin.

"We'll go," Firion said quickly. He looked over to Maria and frowned. While not biological, he considered her his sister, the same as he considered the dark knight his brother, as they found out earlier that the highest ranking officer in the old empire was really Maria's long lost brother, Leon, who had been captured by Paramecia's forces right after the fall of Fynn. If anyone could talk sense into Leon, it was either Firion or Maria.

There was no doubt in her mind that her brother was under a spell while the emperor was alive. Maria had confided that to Gareth, right before they arrived at the castle. But somehow she knew if they just talked, her love for him would cancel out the hatred the evil young emperor had infused in his heart.

And once they had fought their way to the throne room, it seemed that her beliefs were accurate, but her hopes would be dashed. Leon, dressed in solid black armor, and wearing his dreaded red cape that many in the conquered areas had learned to fear, sat on his newly gained throne. He smiled at her, and it was obvious that he did not intend to leave it without a fight.

"I'll not go back to being a no body," he hissed at his sister and friends. "I won't go back to the weak minded fool I was before this. You can save your sentimentally. I will die to defend my throne and my empire." Just as he took his sword from his sheathe, ready to battle his friends and family, there was a low rumble, and an evil cackle leeched from the cracks in the floor.

"You're empire?" it hissed. Lightning flashed in the room, and Ben Wafiyy growled his eyes glowing gold. As the light subdued, a demonic creature filled the room, its skin dark blue, its eyes black as coal. And yet there seemed something very familiar about it.

"Emperor Paramecia?" Maria squealed? She looked over at her brother and frowned. His body seemed to shake, and a light flashed in his eyes, as if he were waking up for the first time in a long time.

"I believe that the throne is still mine, my little puppet," the demon cackled. "As is this pathetic planet." It rose it's clawed hands and a bright light filled his fingers. "It is mine to destroy, its souls mine to send to the flames of the neatherworld." It grinned and narrowed its violent eyes. "Starting with you."

Ben Wafiyy roared in opposition, and Gareth sighed with a nod. They knew what they had to do. The world was changing; the general had been right about that. There was no longer a need for the riders, not when it had heroes like these to defend it. He turned and smiled at his friends.

"Get out of here, I'll distract him," he said.

Maria's head bashed back and forth so fast her hair wiped like Madusa's snakes. "No, you can't," she wailed.

"We don't have a choice, you have to survive to stop him. If we all run, we die, if we all stay, we die. Someone needs to stay and stop him, and that's me." He looked down for a moment, his mind soaring towards the young mother in Deist. "Tell her I'm sorry," he asked Maria. Before he could be stopped, he leapt aboard Ben Wafiyy, and rider and drake speed towards their destiny, their last sounds defiant roars against the darkness that threatened to envelope their world.

Another week later, a second celebration was being held at Fynn. Paramecia was gone, back to the eternal flames of the neatherworld where he belonged. His empire was dead, and the monarchy of Migte reformed, under the former ruler's uncle's lead.

Inside the main hall of the castle, three heroes watched one of their number walk away, his soul filled with sorrow and penitence. Maria watched her favorite brother walk slowly away, and felt the tears pour from her eyes. Firion put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Gus sighed and turned to spy four spirits look on as their living compatriots both celebrated and mourned victories and defeats.

Josef, the strong bare fisted martial artist, who gave his life in the snow caves, north of Salamand, who's daughter Molly now lived with Queen Hilda as an aide, and possible knight one day.

Cid, the mechanical genius, and owner of the airship that had proved so necessary for this victory. Eccentric, and greedy, he learned almost too late that the defeat of the evil of the empire was more important than his mercenary ways. He was proud of how these kids took down evil, and even more proud that they managed to keep his "baby" in one piece, despite overwhelming odds.

Mindu, aide to King Charles of Fynn and later his daughter, Queen Hilda. His sacrifice helped the heroes crush the spirit of the spoiled emperor not once, but twice. His determination led them to free Salamand from Paramecia's iron grip, and ultimately the destruction of the empire itself, as he taught his allies, and students the power of magic. He smiled and chuckled at Cid's one selfish thought about his airship.

And then there was Gareth. The last drake rider who would die to protect his planet and his friends from the horrors of hell. He had seen the hatred in the eyes of the demon emperor, and yet he could see the final battle. He could see Gus and Maria, and even Leon knocked out, crushed by flying comets, and yet, there was still Firion, with his blood red sword, defiantly slashing the evil being, and ultimately defeating the brat and sending him back into the flames where he was meant to be. He could see that the emperor had seen that too, and the last drake rider, in his final flight, could see more than hatred, he could see fear. It was that fear that calmed Gareth's soul, knowing that he was right that his friends would win. It was a flight of the utmost joy.

The four friends disappeared into thin air, going their own ways. Gareth and Ben Wafiyy traveled to the fields of Alion, where he eternally joined with General Tzsi and the others in peace forever riding in the bright green skies with the wind on the wings of their drakes.

FIN


End file.
